World's End
by Unleashed Reasoning
Summary: When the seemingly immovable and unconquerable... finally fall.


**A/N: **Okay, first Buffy fic... Random idea, had to write it down. Hope it does the show/comic ... whatever, justice. Anyway, hope you enjoy it.

P.S. I own nadda of Buffy, neither series or comic.

* * *

The fall of forever… A slight whine fills the air as the unexpected weight of the world shifts… and falls… It crumbles, falling away into a black hole that was never noticed and isn't there. Eyes blink blurrily as everything tilts… and suddenly, two legs are not enough to keep oneself upright.

A strangled voice, choked with despair, fills the silence, stoking heated emotions that can't quite formulate words. A hand reaches, grasping, … and touching nothing… Bodies litter the ground… everywhere the figure turns, another body is slumped upon the cold ground. Staggering, the figure crumbles to their knees, eyes wide, bloodshot…

So many sleepless nights. So many hard spent days just trying to keep everything at bay, to survive… and having everything precious fall within an instant, one moment, one lapse in strength and courage…

She'd never actually let herself topple before. She never let herself fail… Yet here she is, weeping… alone.

If she'd thought her path was solitary before, she'd never before heard the utter silence of loss to show how truly alone one could be. The silence had never before echoed so soundlessly… There'd always been someone, or something, to make a noise, make an offhand comment. Now… there was nothing. Nothing made a noise. No one showed up to put a hand on her shoulder and try to comfort her.

She used to shrug off such things. Believing that she was the One, the _only_ One, had kept her at arms distance for… so many years. She'd struggled to imagine that the only thing keeping the world from crashing down around them was her, that she had the strength to keep the world safe. Even when the others were summoned, she'd believed she still had to take care of everything, in spite of the fact that she was constantly told otherwise, that she could share the burden.

It'd become habit. Resentment of the entire Slayer thing had made her bitter at heart. She'd been forced into the role… and she'd taken it far too seriously. She didn't let up for a moment… because if she let something shake her beliefs, her world would crumble… she would crumble. If she fell fate to something like trying to decide if her actions were truly for the better in a moment of pure split second decisions, which had always been the case when constantly fighting for one's life, she would have died… as many others in her position had done.

It was the unspoken law of being a Slayer. Your life was usually spinning so quickly from one tough battle to the next, you never really got a chance to sit down and breathe and figure out what was right, what was borderline, or flat out wrong. You just went with doing the "insanely impossible to justify" thing of following whatever thing you called a gut. Most times, the gut thing worked out all right. The rest of the time… you really didn't like thinking about the rest of the time. You had to put it on the furthest darkest shelf in your mind and buried it behind a mound of other things so you didn't have to think about it.

Thinking about mistakes, big mistakes, or stumbles in one's quick "strike first or die" method, often lead to more mistakes because you're still hung up over that one. More mistakes could lead to more losses. More losses could lead to more heartache… and more heartache meant one would slowly start to crumble under the weight of responsibility.

Collapsing from her knees to her hands, she felt herself dry heaving. Her stomach roiled, mouth dry, and her body trembling.

Responsibility… what a riot. What a load of bullshit. Responsibility was what she'd been force fed from the beginning… what she used as an excuse to make herself believe that all the things she'd done, be they good or bad, were for the better, that they'd been done for a reason. She'd used responsibility as a shield to block all blame for her actions. She talked herself into believing that if she tried to carry responsibility for what she'd done, adding that extra weight on top of the weight of the world bearing down on her shoulders, she'd drown. She'd be crushed. She had to believe that she was doing justice, or she'd mentally crack.

So she'd struggled through everything. Through countless battles and endless wars, she'd forged on, forcing wins when she was supposed to have lost. She did the impossible, time and time again… and even been brought back from the dead to carry on, to fight longer, to bring the impossible down to possible levels. She did what she had to do…

But then… then it'd come back and slapped her in the face… It slapped her so hard she was winded, knocked off her feet, and broken. She's lost all her fight now. Everything she'd ever cared for, everything she was trying to protect… it lay in shambles all around her. There's nothing left.

Familiar faces stare at her sightlessly. Friends… Dear friends… they lay soulless before her. Her mentor, her Watcher… he was torn to pieces, scattered all over the battlefield. Her only family… even if not quite born in the normal fashion… was completely burned, turned to ash that blew away on the wind.

Failure… at it's worst… It fell upon her trembling form with a weight that was far heavier and smothering then the weight of keeping the world safe. She choked on it, gagging and clawing at the ground in a vain attempt to rid herself of the damning thing.

She'd beaten the ultimate evil. She'd ripped the thing into so many pieces that when it turned to dust, only a small handful was left in her hand to blow away on the wind. Her rage still boiled… fighting, tearing at her to release her bottled up feeling's of uselessness… of loss.

But the silence is all that greets her ears… maybe a small stirring of the wind, blowing over the desolate battlegrounds… a graveyard. How typical. A graveyard was their last stand, their last hope… and even though she'd killed the horrible demon god… the price for that win… was more then she could bear.

It was enough… It broke what will she had left, that steel rod of "heroic justice" that pushed her on when she was always so ready to quit. And she'd let that image, that responsibility cloud her sight. She let it drag her down into the blindness of "I'm right" attitude that had so pushed so many away from her. Now… she was being forced to see… forced to witness what her mistakes had caused, in the end.

"I was wrong…" she croaks, voice hoarse from screaming, crying. "I… I've always been wrong."

She fell to the ground, sobs wracking her already weak figure. It'd required all of her strength to down that demon god… all of her strength and more… and she'd used every ounce of herself to destroy it, in her unbridled rage.

Unnoticed, footsteps crunch softly in the silence. First, it is only one set… but slowly, quietly, more join the first pair. Step by step, more footfalls join the first, and an entire seeming army is converging upon her.

And she hears it not.

Suddenly, all the footsteps stop. One pair of feet come closer, a shadow falling over her slumped figure.

"What the fuck is yer' problem?" demands a husky feminine voice. Anger lights their dark brown eyes as they stare down at the shaking blond on the ground.

"I was wrong…" whispers the blond. Everyone present can hear her, even though she spoke so softly. "I… was wrong…"

An irritated growl is the response as the newcomer squats down so they have a clearer view of the blond's dirty and blood crusted face. Unfortunately, the blond's arm is tucked close to her face, hiding her expression from the newcomer's sight.

"What the fuck are ya' talkin' about? Why the hell did ya' come all the way out here by yer' damned self?!" demands the newcomer, her voice heavy with an accent.

"I came alone… they followed… They should have stayed…" the blond says softly. "I made sure the others were busy. They _had_ to be busy… because they would have died. But… they followed."

There's evident confusion in the blond's voice, and a haltingly broken emptiness.

"Ya' should've let them come!" growls the brunette, dark eyes alight with anger. "They could have helped! They've helped before! Why the hell did ya' have t' try and take things on alone again?!"

"I was wrong…" mutters the blond. "I've always been wrong…"

Irritated that it was the only seeming response she was going to receive, the brunette grabs the blond by the shoulders and drags her up so she can look her in the eye.

"What are ya'-…" The brunette halts mid sentence. The look in the blond's eyes is like nothing she'd ever seen. It's completely broken, empty, soulless. None of the usual spark is there, the damnable spark of stubborn bullheadedness that seems to know no bounds. "What the hell! I bust out of prison to save yer' scrawny hide and yer' out here lamenting about being wrong?!"

The blond's empty orbs finally turn to her, meet her gaze for gaze.

"I was wrong most… about you…" comments the blond emotionlessly, gaze unwavering.

"No ya' the fuck weren't!" yells the brunette. "Ya' were right every damned time!" Shaking the blond, she tries to snap her out of her weird daze.

"No I wasn't… I was wrong again… You came… You had no reason to… You should hate me… loathe me… want me to lose when I marched into this lost cause… But, you came…"  
"So what if I came? Snap out of it! It's the world we're talkin' about here! If there ain't no world, there ain't a place to live, now is there?!" retorts the brunette. "Now snap out of it!"

"Pay me back for what I've done…" mutters the blond. "Return the favor for all the things I've done to you… Break my world… like I so cruelly did to yours…"

"Stop talkin' nonsense! We both did shit to each other that neither of us should have done! And yes, we found some perverse amusement from it. We gave as equally as we got!" The brunette takes a deep breath and looks around at the mess around her. Her eyes darken with sadness. "Ain't no reason to add more pain to someone who's already lost everything," she says almost gently.

"Pain… it's living… That's all it is… I've been forced back to this place to continue my skewed path of saving the world… and life… is now my worst enemy… I… don't get to know the blessings of the afterlife… I cannot see them… apologize… I must live…" A dry, brittle laugh fills the air. "I am forced to suffer through life… again… and this time… alone…truly alone…"

"Why the fuck do ya' have to keep prattlin' on about this alone crap?! Can't ya' see us standin' right here next to ya'?!"

The blond's eyes wander over the crowd of young Slayers standing quietly behind the brunette. Each of them are watching her with sad, pitying eyes. Their pity burns, adding fuel to the self shame she already feels consuming her.

"You weren't supposed to come…" replies the blond. "You were supposed to stay away, and be glad I was gone… that I failed. You were supposed to live… and forget."

"How the fuck do ya' expect to 'forget' being a Slayer?!" demands the brunette. "Ya' don't! That's how! We all gotta deal!"

"You… shouldn't… have to…" whispers the blond, eyes straying to the cloud covered sky.

"Shouldn't, wouldn't… I don't give a damn! We don't get a choice, so we deal!"

"Deal… ha… it's all so backwards… It's all so wrong… You had a choice… You should have stayed away…"

"How many times do I have to tell ya' yer' stuck with me?! I'm yer' damned dirty little secret! The curse behind yer' existence! Yer' darker half! Ya' can't go anywhere without me knowin' and showin' up to crash the party!" replies the brunette hotly, dark eyes flashing. "And this pity party is gettin' _way_ outta hand!"

"Pity is… for those who deserve it… I don't deserve… anything but stone cold silence… and the pain… from being so wrong… for so long." The blond's eyes slide slowly over to the bodies lying scattered around them. "The harsh reality… the payment…for my mistakes." The blond's eyes flick back to the brunette's. "Leave. Get out of here before I drag you down further… and the light that you're always so close to reaching… dims, and fades out. Find the path… that I could never reach… and be the true Chosen… and lead the others properly. Show them… what a Slayer really is."

Growling angrily, the brunette shakes the blond again. "Stop talkin' nonsense! I'm sick of it! Get yer' head out of the grave and back down here to reality!"

"Reality is a bitter place," answers the blond. "Especially when our lives are _so_ beyond the normal."

"Just shut up," grumbles the brunette. "We're goin' home."

"I have no home," the blond mutters almost bitterly. "It was destroyed… again. There's no place to return to. Just leave."

"Yer' comin' with me," states the brunette, scooping up the blond.

Growling, the blond tries to push away, but she's so weak, she only rocks slightly in the other's strong arms. "Where are you taking me? Just leave me here!"

"I've been down this road, B." The brunette shakes her head. "I had to suffer it alone." It's as close to a confession of her past as she'd ever reveal, but it's more then the blond ever expected from her. "For whatever it's worth, and how much I'll pry kick myself for it later, I ain't turnin' my back on ya'. If ya' gotta blame someone, blame that damn Angel. He's the only person I know that's nonsense kinda makes some odd sorta sense. He stuck around and kept me on the right track, even though I hadn't wanted him to. Knocked some sense into me, though. It's why I'm here."

The name makes the blond go rigid. Another mistake, another burned bridge. The irony of Angel… what he'd been and is. She'd rather not run into him again… have him try and help her rebuild…

"No… not there," she murmurs unconsciously. "Not Angel…"

"Ya' gotta start somewhere, B." When you think you've lost everything, the brunette decided it was best to reacquaint yourself with what you knowingly, or unknowingly, had left.

"Not there," the blond pleads, looking up at the brunette with large wounded eyes.

Irritated but not quite able to deny the blond, the brunette heaves a sigh. "Fine. We'll go straight to the Motel and crash, instead of dropping by Angel's. Ya' can't avoid him forever, though."

Woozily, the blond's eyes keep drooping and her body settling deeper into the brunette's arms. A very vague thought passes through her mind at the strangeness of the brunette's wording, almost as if the brunette had already planned to take her to the Motel, be they go to Angel's or not. "I haven't been able to face myself for months…" mumbles the blond tiredly, almost absently. "How do I face a soulful vampire?"

"Simple, ya' say hello." Navigating smoothly through the headstones, she makes her way to the iron gate of the cemetery. Just as the brunette passes through the gate, a small spatter of rain begins to fall. The brunette unconsciously pulls the blond closer, a small frown on her face. "Ya' just gotta say hello…"


End file.
